The Player
by the-defenestration-of-smaug
Summary: This is the story of how Onua met Numair and how they became friends.
1. Chapter 1

Onua wove her way down the crowded streets of the Tortallan city of Green Harbor. Food stalls nearby wafted tempting smells over the crowded street, mingling with woodsmoke and the inevitable reek of hundreds of unwashed humans and animals congregating. All around her merchants hawked their wares and traders argued over prices while barefooted children wove through the crowd, laughing and liberating purses. A salty breeze came off the harbor and she took a deep breath. She may prefer the company of her ponies and an open road before her, but she always found something exciting in a city like this.

Eventually she came to an inn near the center of the town, just off the main market square. She went inside and rented a room, where she put away her bags and got settled. Then she sat on the bed, wondered what on earth she was going to do with herself.

She was here on the business of the Queen's Riders, meeting with a trader who claimed to have a new type of pony, one even hardier than the mountain breed Onua normally supplied the Riders with. Onua doubted the veracity of this claim, but after consulting with Thayet it was decided that it was worth investigating. Anticipating delays on the road, Onua had set out from Corus with plenty of time to spare for her journey. But the trip had been remarkably smooth, and she now found herself in Green Harbor nearly two weeks in advance of her meeting with the trader with nothing to do until he arrived.

Deciding to go out and buy herself dinner from one of the stalls she'd seen on her way in, Onua left her room and went back outside the inn. But when she stepped out onto the street, her attention was caught by a small knot of people gathered on the other side of the road. She was about to skirt around the edge of the group when a loud groan went up from someone in the crowd, mingled with laughter from the other spectators. Onua's curiosity got the better of her. She wove through the people until she was near the front of the group and could see what everyone was looking at.

"Anyone else brave enough to try their luck? All you have to do it find the coin and you can double your money! Step right up, one coin is all you need," a young man was saying. He sat in front of a makeshift table, upon which he had placed three cups upside down. Onua recognized the game and realized that the young man must be one of the players that traveled through marketplaces, earning their living with tricks and sleight of hand.

"Anyone? How about you, sir? You look sharp eyed- no? How about you, young lady? Surely one so beautiful must be talented as well-" the young player was dark haired and bearded, with a wide grin and dark, twinkling eyes that spelled trouble. The mother of the girl he'd spoken to must have seen it too, because she pulled the girl away.

"I'll play," came an offer from the man beside Onua.

"Excellent!" The player said. "A coin, if you please?" He held out one hand, into which the volunteer placed a copper coin. The player raised an eyebrow. "A little on the cheap side, are you?" He teased, rolling the coin between his fingers.

"A copper is all I'll waste on your game," the man laughed.

"Fair enough," the player agreed. "The game's simple: just watch the coin. I'll match your bet-" he placed a second copper coin on the corner of the table- "and if you can find your coin when I'm done, you get both. If not-" he flipped the coin in the air and caught it, then slipped it beneath one of the cups- "I keep both." Then his hands began to move, sliding the cups around across the table, switching their positions in a bewildering pattern that was nearly impossible to follow. The volunteer tried admirably though, and when the player finished the man pointed with some confidence to the cup in the middle. But when the player lifted the cup, the coin was not there. The man who'd given his coin groaned.

"Remind me never to play these damned games again," he grumbled.

"Ah, but then how would I earn my bread?" The player asked with a grin. He lifted the cup on the left with a flourish, revealing the copper coin. He swept both coins off the table and they disappeared into a pouch at his waist as the losing man walked away, shaking his head.

"How about another volunteer? I don't always win, you know, all you need is half a brain and a good pair of eyes-" The player began flipping the cups across the table, fingers moving with practiced ease as he continued to talk. "Or not even a set, I was once beaten by a one eyed old crone. She didn't have a pair of eyes, and even the brain I'm not sure of-" There were some scattered chuckles, while a few people at the edge of the group wandered off, going back to their day to day tasks. Onua stayed, though. Half a brain and a good set of eyes she did have, and she was almost certain that the coin had been under the middle cup. "How about you, sir?"

Another volunteer stepped up to the table, and Onua watched as once again he selected the wrong cup and lost his coin. Then a woman replaced him, winning this time. But the player managed to cajole her into another game, this time betting a silver coin, and she lost. It was in the next game that Onua saw it.

On the last turn of the cups, Onua's sharp eyes caught an extra movement of the cup on the right. The player was tilting it up slightly and sweeping the coin out from under it, slipping it under the cup beside it. His volunteer would choose the cup the coin had been under at first, and he would win every time. Smiling to herself, Onua turned to leave.

"And how about you, lovely lady? Care to try your luck?"

Onua turned around. "What makes you think I'm a lady?"  
The player smiled. "How could such radiance come from anything but nobility?"

Onua laughed. "Has that line ever worked before?"

"Not until today," the player said flirtatiously. He gestured to the game before him. "A game for you, my lady?"

"Sure," Onua decided, smirking. She knew his trick, and she knew how to beat him. "I'll try my luck."

"Wonderful," the player said. "A coin?"

Smile growing, Onua took out a gold coin from her purse. The player's eyes widened. "You must be very confident."

"You could say that," Onua replied.

"Alas, a poor player like myself can not match such a bet," he said apologetically.

"That's all right, I'll let it slide just this once," Onua said. "Go on, then."

"As my lady commands," the player said, grinning, and began his work. Onua watched closely as he moved the cups, and saw when he made the switch.

"That one," Onua said confidently, pointing to the cup the player had switched the coin to.

"Bad luck," the player said, shaking his head with mock sadness as he lifted the cup. Onua gaped disbelievingly at the empty place where her coin should be.

"But-" she started, but broke off. She thought she'd seen a faint glitter as the cup lifted, like black sparks in the air. Magic? Her eyes narrowed. Was this player using the Gift to hide her coin? She looked up from the cups and was about to accuse him of cheating, but stopped abruptly when she got her first good look at him. The bones protruded sharply from his tired face, and she could see that under his tattered clothes he was painfully thin. She remembered his joke earlier about earning his bread and realized that it hadn't been a joke. Her stomach turned, and she swallowed the accusation on her lips. He needed the gold more than she did. "Damn. I really shouldn't gamble," she said instead.

"Come back any time," the player said cheerfully. "I'm sure your luck will improve."


	2. Chapter 2

The next day it rained. The market was still open, but few traders bothered to set up their stalls, knowing that the bad weather would drive off all but the most determined shoppers. Onua would have stayed inside too, but by afternoon her room was growing stuffy and she felt the walls beginning to close in around her. She needed fresh air.

Outside, the cold drizzle soaked through her hood and raised goosebumps down her back, but she welcomed it after the overly warm stuffiness of the inn. She wandered around the nearly empty market, stopping to examine the wares at a few of the stalls just for something to do. She had just bought an apple from a fruit merchant's stall when she heard the tell tale sounds of an argument nearby. Slipping the fruit into her pocket for later, Onua turned around to look for the source of the noise. She found it nearby, under a ledge that provided some shelter from the rain. Three young men, squires or sons of lords by the looks of them, were standing around a third man, thin and dressed in raggedy clothes, who sat on the ground. With a start, Onua recognized him as the player she'd lost her coin to yesterday.

"-know you cheated, now give it back!" The squire was demanding.

"I can assure you, sir, I didn't cheat. I'm just very good at what I do," the player insisted.

"I know what I saw, and the coin should have been under that cup!" The squire shouted, pointing to the offending cup.

"Maybe your eyes just aren't as good as you think they are," the player suggested innocently. The other boy's face turned bright red with anger, and he yanked the sword from its sheath at his belt.

"Learn some respect for your betters or you'll be the one with bad eyes," the squire growled, pointing the blade at the player's face. He raised his hands slowly in front of him.

"I don't want any trouble," he said nervously. "You can have the coin back."

"No," the squire said, smiling wickedly. "I think you need to be taught a lesson. What do you think?" He asked his friends. They laughed and nodded in agreement, and the leader took a step forward.

"I think that's enough fun for one day," Onua said firmly. The squires looked around, eyes taking in the woman standing behind them with a loaded crossbow in hand.

"This doesn't concern you, peasant," one of the squires told her. "Go away."

"It concerns me to see three gentlemen like yourselves behaving in such a way," she replied easily. "Don't you have anything better to do than threaten helpless players on the street?"

"It's none of your business how we behave!" He snapped.

"That may be so," Onua agreed, raising her crossbow. "But you'd best not cross me all the same." Scowling, the squires turned and left, muttering insults as they went. Onua lowered her bow.

"Thanks," the player said. "I'd like my eyes to stay just where they are."

"No problem," Onua said, taking the bolt out of her bow and putting both items away. "But in the future you might want to consider not insulting touchy nobles with swords."

"Couldn't help myself," the player said with a wince. "It's a weakness of mine."

Impulsively, Onua stepped under the ledge and sat on the damp ground across from him, placing a copper coin on his little table.

"You want to play?" He asked surprisedly. She shrugged.

"Why not? It's like you said, my luck might improve."

He smiled and placed one of his own coins on the table, then slipped hers under a cup and began to move. Her quick eyes tracked the cup and saw when he made the switch.

"There," she said, pointing to the cup she knew was right. But when he lifted it, the space was empty, save for a tiny glitter of magic, so insignificant that had she not been looking for it, Onua doubted that she would have spotted it.

"Sorry," the player said sympathetically. "I guess you didn't get any luckier."

"Hm," she said thoughtfully. "You have the Gift, don't you?"

The color drained from his face. "What?"

"The Gift," she repeated, surprised at his reaction. "You just used it to hide my coin like you did yesterday, didn't you?"

Relaxing a little, the player smiled ruefully. "You're the first to catch me at it."

"I have sharp eyes, and my own Gift helps me spot things like that," she explained.

"I see." He sounded interested, like he wanted to ask for more details about her Gift, but held himself back. Instead, he just shook his head in disbelief.

"You saw me use my Gift, but you let me cheat you out of your gold anyway?"

Onua shrugged. "You looked like you needed it more than I do."

"You're right about that," he muttered, looking down at the ground.

"Do you want to come eat lunch with me?" She asked suddenly.

"What?" He looked up at her, confused. "I just cheated you twice and now you want to have a meal with me?"

She laughed. "I've been on the road a while, you could say my judgement isn't what it used to be. Besides, I could use the company. The inn where I'm staying makes a fantastic stew, and I'm buying. What do you say?"

He looked like he was about to refuse, but just then his stomach gave a loud growl. He smiled sheepishly. "I'd be happy to," he agreed.

"Great," Onua said, standing up. The player followed suit. "Horse Lords," Onua said, looking up at his considerable height. "If I'd known you were this big I wouldn't have offered to feed you."

"Too late now," he said with a grin.

"I'm Onua, by the way," she told him as they began to walk toward the inn. "Onua Chamtong of the K'mir Raadeh."

"I'm Ar-" he stopped and corrected himself. "Numair Salmalin, of nowhere in particular. It's a pleasure to meet you, Onua."


	3. Chapter 3

"So how did you come to be in Green Harbor?" The player called Numair asked. He sat across from Onua in the warm common room of the inn where she was staying, making conversation while they waited for their food.

"I'm here on business, actually," she told him. "I'm supposed to meet up with a horse trader and check out his stock."

"So you're a trader, too?" He asked curiously. From what she'd seen thus far, Onua got the sense that Numair Salmalin was curious about almost everything.

"I'm the horse mistress for the Queen's Riders," she told him. Her employment was no secret, and she had no qualms about discussing it with a stranger. She was no fool though, and if he started asking about too many details, she knew how to spot a spy.

"That must be an interesting line of work," he said.

"I like it," Onua agreed. "I get to spend most of my time with horses or shouting at trainees, so I'm happy." Numair laughed. Just then, their food arrived and their conversation halted as Onua watched in fascination as Numair ate the stew more quickly than she would have thought possible. When he finally slowed down, Onua asked him: "What about you? What are you doing here in Green Harbor?"

"Cheating innocent bystanders out of their hard earned coin," he told her through a mouthful of food.

"You could do that anywhere in the world," Onua pointed out. "Why here?"

"Well, I originally meant to head for Corus, but I spent all my money booking passage to Tortall." He rolled his eyes at his own apparent lack of planning. "We docked here and I realized I had no money and nothing in particular waiting for me in the capital, so…" He shrugged. "I just stayed here."

"How long have you been here?" She asked.

"About… a year, I think," he told her, sounding surprised by his own answer. "I hadn't realized it had been so long."

Onua frowned. "What did you do in the winter, when they closed the market?"

"Turned into an icicle," he joked, but the light hearted tone in his voice sounded forced. When Onua didn't laugh, he sighed. "It was hard," he admitted. "Fewer people means less money which means less food, and it gets much colder here than I'm used to." He shivered at the memory. "It worked out though, and I'm still here." He smiled again, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"What are you going to do this winter?" She asked.

"I don't know yet," he sighed. "So tell me about these ponies of yours- what makes them special?"

Recognizing the attempt to change the subject, Onua launched into an explanation of breeding practices and training, but her heart wasn't in it. The idea of anyone starving and cold on the streets in the winter disturbed her. She wished there was something she could do to help.

They talked for a while after that, discussing horses and sleight of hand and the best way to cook a stew, among other things. Onua found the player to be good natured, funny, and pleasant to be around, but extremely evasive when asked about his past. That didn't bother her, though. Everyone was entitled to their secrets: Goddess only knew that Onua had a fair number of her own.


	4. Chapter 4

"Can you read?" Onua asked Numair one day over lunch. During the past two weeks, their meetings had become more and more frequent until they were eating lunch together every day. Onua enjoyed her time with Numair, which only made it all the more painful when she realized that she would be meeting with her trader the next day and leaving soon after. She was not looking forward to parting ways with Numair, and had therefore been spending a fair bit of time thinking about a way to avoid that eventuality.

"Yes. Why?" Numair asked, looked surprised by the question.

"Write? Work with numbers?"

"Yes, both."

She nodded in satisfaction. She'd expected as much from the way he spoke (she didn't think anyone who hadn't gone to school would use words like "skeuomorph" and "catoptromancy" in everyday conversation). "Can you ride a horse?"

"Very badly," he replied.

"What about your Gift? How strong is it?"

"Strong enough for my purposes," he said cautiously. "Strong enough to tell when someone's using eyebright on me."

Onua blushed, pulling her itching fingers out of the pouch at her belt. Eyebright lent her the ability to see when someone was lying. "Sorry," she said. "I wanted to make sure you were telling the truth."

"It's all right," he said, still looking wary. "What's so important that you had to use your Gift to be sure I wasn't lying?"

"I have a proposition for you," she said.

"What kind?"

"I'm meeting with that trader tomorrow," she told him. "Whatever business I end up doing with him should be wrapped up in no more than a day or two."

Numair looked a little sad. "I know. You're leaving soon. What does that have to do with me?"

Onua took a deep breath. "I want you to come with me."

"What?"

"Come with me back to Corus. You said once that you wanted to go there but ran out of money and got stuck here. Well, this is your chance to get unstuck. I'd like someone to keep me company on the way home, and when we get there I can set you up with a job as a scribe or a clerk or something in the palace."

He was already shaking his head. "I don't have the money or supplies for a trip like that, and I don't have a horse. I'd slow you down."

"I'll lend you a horse," she offered. "And don't worry about supplies, I've got that part covered."

"Onua, I can't, you've already done so much for me-"

"A few meals and a gold coin," she scoffed. "It was nothing."

"It wasn't," he insisted earnestly. "It was the kindest thing anyone's done for me in years, and I appreciate it more than you'll ever know. I can't take anything more from you."

"Listen, Numair, if it bothers you that much then you can pay me back for the supplies once you have a job in Corus. It's no trouble. I want to do this." She locked gazes with him, willing him to believe her.

"Why?" He asked quietly. "Why would you help me?"

"Because that's what friends do, you dolt," she said, punching him lightly in the arm. "So what do you say?"

He was quiet for a moment, and then Onua watched with satisfaction as a grin spread slowly across his face. "All right," he agreed. "Let's go to Corus."


	5. Chapter 5

Numair was as good a travelling companion as he was a bad rider. Onua spent a lot of time wrestling with the lead ropes of the five ponies she'd bought, a pastime that usually put her in a foul mood, but Numair managed to keep her spirits up. He kept her entertained through long days, telling her jokes and stories and making conversation while bouncing awkwardly in the saddle. And though he was useless as a hunter, Onua soon discovered that he was excellent at preparing the meat she caught for their meals. She also found that the extent of his random, esoteric knowledge was far broader than she'd previously guessed, though despite her best efforts the source remained a mystery.

One portion of his vast stores of useless information was revealed to Onua when she returned from hunting one night. She found him brushing his horse and talking softly to the animal. Curious, she hung back to listen before announcing her presence.

"You're a chordate, did you know that?" He said softly. "And a mammal, and a perissodactyl, if you can believe it." He rubbed the brush down the mare's side, causing dust and loose hair to fall from her coat. "You're also and an equine. You're properly called Equus ferus caballus. Can you believe all those fancy names you've got?" The mare shook herself and snorted as though in agreement, and Numair laughed. "Me neither. Some scholar sat in his university thinking up all these nice names, when he could've just called you stinky." Onua couldn't contain a snort of laughter at that, and Numair looked up for the source of the noise. His eyes found her at the edge of the trees and he grinned.

"Glad to see you're making friends," Onua commented, coming over to rub the mare's nose.

"She puts up with me," he said, patting the horse's side.

"What were all those names you were calling her?" Onua asked curiously.

"It's the scientific classification of a horse," Numair told her. When Onua looked blank, he continued. "Scholars classify animals in groups based on certain characteristics, and all the groups have names."

"What's the point of that?"

He shrugged. "Scholars just like to organize everything, I suppose."

"So how do you know all those names?" She asked.

"School," he answered evasively. She'd grown used to that kind of avoidance during their time together and she'd learned to accept it, but this time her curiosity urged her onward.

"What kind of school makes you memorize the classification of a horse?"

"The kind that wants their students to know all kinds of useless things," he told her.

"Like what?"

"Like the classification of a horse."

Giving up on getting a straight answer, Onua went to the fire and began preparing their meal. She would get the truth out of him one day, she knew. It just wouldn't be today.


	6. Chapter 6

It was the middle of the night when Onua woke. It was her Gift that jolted her awake, warning her that someone had come to the edge of her protection spell. She moved to kick Numair awake, but when she looked over at him she saw he was already sitting up in his bedroll, hair tousled from sleep but eyes alert. Their gazes met and she pressed a finger to her lips. He nodded his understanding and eased out of his bedroll as Onua did the same, reaching for her crossbow.

There were voices nearby, and the sound of hooves on the road. Then the bandits came into view.

"You sure this is where they stopped, Berk?" The leader said.

"I'm sure, boss. I saw 'em come in here clear as day, two riders and five ponies."

"Then where are they now?"

"I dunno. Could they be hidden with a spell or something?" Berk suggested. Numair and Onua exchanged quick, worried glances.

"Good point," the leader said thoughtfully. "Where's that damn mage when you need him?"

"Here, boss. I'll check for a spell." The mage dismounted and began pacing slowly along the invisible barrier of Onua's wards, murmuring spell of his own. She closed her eyes and sent up a brief prayer to any gods who might be listening, begging for her wards to hold. "There's a spell here, alright," the mage concluded. "A good one. They're probably watching us right now."

The leader laughed. "Let's give 'em a show, then. Take the spell down."

"Sure, boss." The mage raised his hands and began to chant, brown fire igniting in his hands. Onua loaded her crossbow, expression grim. She'd never known a group of bandits with a mage strong enough to beat her wards, and the fact that there was one here now could mean nothing good.

"Onua, I should probably tell you-"

"Not now, Numair," Onua hissed. She needed to focus.

"But-" Just then, the protection spell shattered like glass and their campsite was revealed to the bandits.

"Well look what we have here," the leader said with a yellow-toothed smile. Onua raised her crossbow.

"Leave us alone and no one has to get hurt," she said, steady voice belying the fear that sent her heart pounding in her chest.

"No one has to get hurt, she says," Berk laughed. "We're not the ones you should be worried about."

"You can take the ponies," Onua told him. She could see that they were outnumbered and in Numair's case, hopelessly outmatched (no offense meant to the player, but he didn't even carry a weapon and couldn't defend himself against a fly from what she'd seen). She'd rather lose her ponies than her life.

"Oh, we will," the leader said, looking her up and down. "But I think you and I should get to know each other a little better first." Onua shivered despite herself, and the bandit's smile widened. Without looking away from her, he said casually: "Berk, kill the other one. He's no use to me."

"Numair, get behind me," Onua ordered.

"I don't think so," the player said quietly.

"Numair-"

"You should all leave now," he said to the bandits. He stepped forward to stand beside Onua, no hint of fear in his stance or his voice.

"Who's gonna make me?" The leader laughed, taking in the player's scrawny, ragged appearance. "You?"

"Me," Numair agreed calmly.

"Berk, shoot him," the leader said, and the bandit's arrow loosed, headed straight for Numair. But before Onua could so much as move, the arrow hit a rock solid barrier or black sparks and shattered. Shocked, Onua turned to Numair and barely recognized the person standing beside her.

Black fire gathered in his hands and spilled from his fingers, power crackling through the air around him. Gone was the friendly, affable grin she'd grown accustomed to, replaced by deadly focus and a glare so fierce that it could burn a hole through a brick wall. He spread his fingers and thrust his hand forward, sending a jet of black fire shooting at the bandits. Two of their horses bolted at the sight. The ones who remained pawed the ground, eyes rolling in panic. The bandits with crossbows raised their weapons, but electricity crackled at Numair's fingertips and lightning flashed, leaving the bandits screaming and clutching smoking wounds. The rest broke and ran, lashing at their mounts to urge them ever faster.

Now alone in the clearing with Onua, Numair curled his hands over the black fire and it disappeared. Eyes closed, he breathed deeply, visibly calming the power and pulling it back into himself. When he finished, he turned back to Onua with a sheepish smile.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," he apologized. "I didn't know if I could trust you."

"Bian, Chavi, Vau, and Shai," Onua whispered. Numair winced.

"All four Horse Lords, huh? That bad?"

"How could I not have seen this?" She gasped.

"Don't be too hard on yourself. Detecting the Gift isn't your specialty."

"You're probably the most powerful mage in Tortall!" she cried. "Anyone with a spark of magic and half a brain should be able to sense you coming a mile off!"

"I've been hiding for a long time. I've gotten good at it," he said apologetically.

"Explain. Now."

"It's a long story, Onua-"

"Now."

"Ok," he sighed. "You might want to see to the ponies first, though. I think I scared them."

Seeing that he was right, Onua went to the makeshift paddock she'd set up for the ponies and spoke soothingly to them, running gentle hands over their coats and feeding them chunks of apple until they calmed down. When she returned, he'd built up the fire again and was sitting beside it waiting for her.

"I put the wards back up," he told her when she sat down across from him. "I hope you don't mind. I don't think the bandits will be back, but I thought I should do it just in case."

She nodded and looked at him expectantly. He sighed.

"I don't really know where to start…"

"Take your time," Onua said, sticking her fingers into her pouch of eyebright and calling on her Gift.

"You're not taking any chances, are you?" Numair said, eyeing the pouch.

"No," she said simply. "Are you going to explain or not?"

"I am." He took a deep breath and began to talk. "My real name is Arram Draper. I was born in Tyra, but I've been living in Cathak for most of my life, studying at the university. That was where I earned my black robe-"

"Did you say black?" Onua interrupted, digging her fingers further into her eyebright.

"Yes. I'm a black robe mage." Green light flared around his face, and Onua knew he was telling the truth, as unbelievable as it was. "One of my best friends at school was Ozorne. He wasn't emperor then, just a prince." He hesitated. "We were close. I loved him like a brother, but… there was always and edge to him. I never saw it before he was crowned, or maybe I just didn't want to think about it. But when he became emperor, there was no ignoring it. He asked me to do something…" Numair swallowed hard. "I couldn't do what he wanted, not without going against everything I believe, everything I know is right. So I told him no. I should have just slipped away, not said anything to his face, but I thought our friendship would protect me. I was stupid. Ozorne doesn't take disobedience lightly. He said I was a traitor and threw me in his dungeons. That was… unpleasant." Numair shivered slightly and leaned closer to the fire. The eyebright told her that the statement was true, but from the haunted look on Numair's face Onua guessed that it was also the understatement of the century.

"I escaped," he said simply. "One of my teachers, probably the only true friend I had left, helped me get on a ship out of Carthak. I landed in Green Harbor with no money and no friends, knowing that the most powerful man in the world was just across the sea, doing everything in his power to see me dead. So I hid. I changed my name and didn't do anything that might draw attention to myself, didn't even let anyone know I had the Gift because I was afraid that word would somehow get back to Ozorne. I stayed in Green Harbor for about a year. You know the rest." He fell silent. Onua was quiet for a moment, taking in all she had heard. Finally, she shook herself out of her daze and pulled her itching fingers out of the eyebright.

"Thank you for telling me," she said softly. He smiled.

"You didn't give me much choice, did you?"

"No, I suppose I didn't," she laughed. "Let's go to bed. We have a few hours before sunrise, may as well get some rest." Numair nodded in agreement and they went back to their bedrolls. Onua was laying on her back looking up at the stars when a quiet voice drifted to her from across the fire.

"Onua?"

"Hm?"

"Thanks."


	7. Chapter 7

The rest of the journey passed without incident, and Onua and Numair soon found themselves riding up through the gates of Corus. Numair twisted and turned in his saddle to look around at the city so much that Onua was sure he was going to fall off. He kept up an almost constant stream of questions and observations about the things he saw, too: everything from architecture to the city's layout to some interesting item he saw in a shop window. It had been days since the incident with the bandits, and Onua still had trouble believing that this man was the most powerful mage in Tortall.

They eventually arrived at the barracks of the Queen's Riders. Onua turned her ponies loose in the meadow to graze, then headed for her room. Numair came with her, helping her carry her bags up to her room along with his own meager collection of belongings.

"Thanks," Onua said, dropping her things down on her bed. Numair did the same with the bags he'd been carrying.

"No problem," he said, leaning against the doorframe. "So… what happens now?"

"I'll get settled and unpacked," she told him. "I can find a room for you here, or you can stay at an inn down in the city if you'd prefer. Tomorrow morning I need to give Thayet my report, and then I thought…" she hesitated. "I thought I might set up a meeting so I can introduce you to the king."

"The king?" Numair said incredulously. "Why?"

"Come on, Numair, you're ridiculously overqualified for being a scribe. A mage with your skills could have a real position here."

"The king of Tortall can't go around hiring fugitives from Carthak," Numair argued. "Besides, I've had just about as much of royalty as I can stomach, thank you very much."

"Jonathan isn't like Ozorne," Onua insisted. "He'll want to meet you, and I think he'll surprise you. He's an unusual sort of king."

"Oh really?" Numair raised an eyebrow. "In what way?"

"He just is," Onua said frustratedly. "Please come to the meeting. You won't regret it, I promise."

Numair hesitated a moment, then nodded reluctantly. "If you think it's a good idea…"

"I do."

"Then I'll do it."


	8. Chapter 8

The next morning, Onua briefly stopped by the room she'd had prepared for Numair. She told him where he could wash, eat, and get some new clothes, but then had to rush off to see to her duties as Horse Mistress. It was evening now, and Onua was back outside Numair's door. It was almost time for the meeting with the king. She knocked, and Numair opened the door.

"Goddess," Onua said in surprise. "I didn't realize you had a face under there."

The mage grinned. He had shaved his beard, as well as trimmed and pulled back his once scraggly mass of black hair. He'd also washed thoroughly and obtained a new set of clothes. The overall effect was quite nice, Onua had to admit, especially since he'd gained some weight during their time together and didn't appear half starved anymore.

"It surprised us both," he joked, stepping out into the hall beside her.

"I'm impressed that they found clothes to fit you," she commented as they began walking toward the palace.

"The seamstress must have worked some magic to make them fit right. I told her she didn't have to bother, but I think she took personal offense at the state of my clothes. She kept going on about how I was making her look like she wasn't doing her job properly."

"That sounds like our seamstress," Onua laughed. They chatted some more on their way to the palace, and reached the room where they would meet with the king in no time. Numair hesitated outside the door, but with an encouraging smile from Onua he followed her inside.

"Onua! It's good to see you!" She was immediately enveloped in a tight hug. When she finally extricated herself from the embrace, she was surprised to see who the other occupants of the room were.

"Alanna? What are you doing here?" Onua asked.

The knight grinned. "I heard you were introducing Jon to a new mage and wanted to see for myself."

"Buri? Sarge? I assume you're here for the same reason?" Onua said disapprovingly. Her friends voiced their affirmation, not even bothering to look abashed. "It was supposed to be a private audience, you know."

"You'll barely know we're here," Alanna promised, eyes twinkling.

"I doubt that," Onua grumbled, but her heart wasn't in it. She was glad to see her friends again.

"Are you going to introduce us or what?" Buri said, standing up and coming over to stand beside Alanna.

"I suppose so," Onua said. Numair stepped further into the room from where he had been lingering near the door. "Numair, this is Buriram Tourakom-"

"-Call me Buri-"

"-And this is Sarge. They're both officers in the Queen's Riders. This is Lady Alanna, the king's champion. You lot, this is Numair Salmalin."

"It's a pleasure to meet you all," the mage said, shaking hands with everyone as they were introduced.

"So tell me, Master Salmalin," Sarge said seriously. "How did you fall into such bad company?"

Onua rolled her eyes, but Numair matched Sarge's solemn tone. "Believe me, I ask myself that same question every day," he replied. The room was uncomfortably quiet for a moment, but then Sarge's lips twitched and they all began to laugh.

"What did I miss?" Came a voice from the doorway. Onua turned and saw the king of Tortall standing behind her.

"Nothing," Alanna snorted. "We were just getting acquainted with Master Salmalin, here."

"Why do I always miss the jokes?" Jonathan grumbled, coming into the room and sitting down.

"Because you're no fun," Alanna told him. The rest of the group followed his lead and sat down around the table. When they were all settled, the king turned his gaze to Onua.

"Well, Mistress Chamtong? Who is this?"

"This is Numair Salmalin," Onua told him. "Numair, this is King Jonathan."

The mage's eyes widened and he abruptly stood up. "Your Highness," he said, and bowed. Onua was confused for a moment, but then she remembered that Numair was used to a very different kind of royalty.

"Please have a seat, Master Salmalin," the king said. "Why don't you tell us how you came to this country."

Numair sat down, and with a quick glance at Onua, began his story. It was almost identical to the version he had told her after the bandit attack, but continued on past his arrival in Tortall to include his meeting with Onua and their journey to Corus. Alanna seemed particularly interested in that last part of the story.

"You said you threw lightning at them?" She interjected as Numair finished telling them about the bandits.

"That's right."

"How did you direct it?" She asked curiously. "I've read that electricity is too unpredictable to be a practical weapon."

"Actually, it's quite the opposite-" Numair began enthusiastically, and launched into a lengthy explanation of the mechanics of the spell which no one but Alanna seemed to follow. Onua, who had some experience with Numair's academic ramblings, listened with amusement and watched the baffled expressions of her friends' faces. When he finally finished, Onua said dryly:

"This is what happens when a man spends most of his adult life in a university."

Numair blushed. "Sorry. Weather magics are an interest of mine."

"Along with every other type of magic," Onua joked.

"Master Salmalin," Jonathan interjected. "Could you give us a moment please? We have a few things to discuss."

"Of course, your highness." Numair bowed again and left the room, returning Onua's slight smile as he closed the door behind him. As soon as he was gone, Jonathan turned back to Onua.

"He's telling the truth?"

"Yes," Onua said confidently. "I used my eyebright when he told me all that the first time. It's true."

"Can eyebright be fooled, though?" Buri asked. "If he's as powerful a mage as you believe, couldn't he find a way to disguise his lies?"

"I suppose it's possible, but what for?" Onua asked, frowning. "Why would he pretend to be a fugitive?"

"To spy on the Tortallan government," Alanna suggested.

"He could still be reporting back to the emperor for all we know," Sarge pointed out.

"No," Onua said, shaking her head firmly. "I don't believe that."

"How can you be sure?" Alanna asked. "You said yourself that the eyebright-"

"I don't need the damn eyebright to know when I'm being lied to," Onua snapped. "And you don't know Numair." The group was silent for a moment after her outburst, and she sighed. "I'm sorry. All I mean to say is that he's my friend and I trust him."

Jonathan leaned back in his chair, deep in thought. "You're right. I don't know him," he said to Onua. "But I do know you, and I trust your judgement. If you say he can be trusted, then I believe you."

"Thanks, Jon," Onua said quietly. He gave her a small nod.

"And besides," he said, "someone with his skills could be very useful."

"Not to mention all he knows about Carthak and the emperor," Buri added. "If war ever comes, he could give us valuable information."

Jonathan nodded in agreement. "So it's decided," he said. "Onua, would you call our new friend back in?"

Smiling, Onua got up from the table and opened the door. Numair was leaning against the wall across the hallway, doing his best not to look nervous.

"Come on back in," Onua invited. He followed her back inside.

"I have one more question for you, Master Salmalin," Jonathan said. "As you probably know, relations between Tortall and Carthak are uneasy at best. Some say that war is inevitable. If it comes to that, gods forbid, how can I know for certain that you will not turn on us? You were in Carthak a long time, you must have ties there. How can we be sure that we have your loyalty?"

"It's true. I do have ties to Carthak." Numair paused, gathering his thoughts, then began to speak. "When Ozorne accused me of treason, he did it in the Imperial Audience Chamber. It was packed with people. If you've never been to Carthak before, suffice it to say that filling the emperor's audience chamber isn't easy. But I knew almost every single person in that room by name. I considered many of them friends." Numair swallowed hard, bitterness creeping into his voice. "But when Ozorne had me dragged away in chains, that room was silent as a crypt. Not one of them said a word in my defense. I grew up with those people, ate with them, studied with them, laughed with them. But if Ozorne had decided to execute me then and there, I have no doubt that not a single one of them would have protested. I would have done anything to protect my friends, but none of them would do the same for me. It took me a long time to realize it, but those were no true friends. They never deserved my loyalty." He took a deep breath. "But the friends I've made here..." he gave Onua a small smile, "they do. If it comes to war, I'll fight for Tortall."

Jonathan glanced at Onua, who gave him a slight nod as she pulled her hand away from her pouch of eyebright. The king nodded thoughtfully.

"In that case," Jonathan said, "I'd like to offer you a position at the Royal University. I expect it will be a step down from what you're accustomed to, but I hope you'll find our resources adequate."

Numair grinned. "Beg you pardon, your highness, but what I'm used to is cheating people out of their spare coins on a street corner and hoping I can find a dry place to sleep at night. I expect the Royal University will be quite an improvement."

Jonathan returned the smile. "I see your point." Turning to the rest of the people in the room, he yawned and said: "If that's all, I'm going to bed. I have an early meeting tomorrow."

Recognizing the dismissal, they said their good nights and filed out the door. But as Numair was about to leave, Jonathan called after him.

"Master Salmalin," he said. Numair turned and looked back at the king.

"Yes, your highness?"

Jonathan smiled. "Welcome to Tortall."


End file.
